Chain of Gold (The Last Hours #1) - Cassandra Clare Page 0,181

But it didn’t fit. Not quite. Then Agaliarept said that his master’s realm had been taken from him—”

“You met Agaliarept?” Belial seemed highly amused. “What a fellow. We spent some good times together before he got himself trapped in that box. You do move in interesting circles, James.”

James ignored this. “And I started to think, who would steal a whole world? And why?” He watched Belial’s face for any change, but the Prince of Hell betrayed no emotion. “Then I remembered reading a book that mentioned you.”

“Many books mention me,” said Belial.

“This one called you the thief of realms, of worlds. And I—I thought it was a mistake. That it had meant to say you were the greatest thief in all the worlds, in any world. But it was correct, wasn’t it? You steal realms. You stole this realm from Belphegor.” James felt dizzy; his wrist, where Christopher’s nails had scored him, ached and throbbed. “You thought no one would guess you were behind the demon attacks. You thought that if you left traces, they would be ascribed to Belphegor. What I don’t understand is that all my life, you have been showing me this place, this realm—” He broke off, fighting for control. “I see this world whether I wish to or not. But why show me a realm that isn’t yours?”

Belial grimaced. “You are mortal, and you measure out your lives in days and years. We demons measure our lives in centuries and millennia. When I wrested this place from my brother, there were no Shadowhunters. They were not even a thought in Raziel’s stupid pretty little head. Over the centuries I have bent everything in this realm to my will. Every tree, every rock, every grain of sand is under my command, and so, my boy, are you. That is why I brought you here.”

“I came here of my own free will,” said James. “I chose to meet you face-to-face.”

“When did you know I was not Belphegor?”

James felt suddenly weary. “Does it matter? I guessed some of it when the Mandikhor on the bridge spoke to me. There was no reason for a Prince of Hell to want to see me so badly unless we shared blood, and no reason for him to be so cagey about which prince he was unless he was playing some sort of trick. Agaliarept said his master’s realm had been stolen by a more cunning demon, and I had heard my grandfather called Hell’s most cunning prince. When Ariadne spoke, when she called her master the Lord of Thieves, I knew it. The Mandikhor’s master, the thief, the cunning prince, my grandfather—they were one and the same.”

“And who do you think spoke to you through Ariadne, and the others?” said Belial. He waved a lazy hand in the air, and for a moment, James glimpsed the infirmary in the Silent City. The sick were lying motionless in their beds, Jem guarding the archway, his staff in his hand. The room was silent. James could not help but gaze at Christopher, still and bruised-looking. “I had grown tired of your dawdling,” Belial said, lowering his hand. The vision blinked out of existence. “You needed to understand that if you did not come to me, the dying would never stop.”

James thought of Matthew and Cordelia. How they had stared at him in disbelief when he had told them why he had to go through the gateway, why he had no choice. I must meet my grandfather in his realm, whether it is a trap or not. Some traps must be sprung. For if I do not meet him and bargain with him, there will never be an end to this death.

“You are the reason there have been so few demons all these years in London,” said James. Too scared to show their faces, Polly had said. “They stayed away because they were afraid of you. But why?”

“To make you all soft,” Belial said. “The Mandikhor has cut through you like a knife through bread, and why not? You remember nothing of what it means to be warriors.”

“And then you started to let the demons back in,” James said slowly. “To keep us anxious and distracted. Not paying attention.”

Belial flicked sand from his sleeve. “You and your friends seem to have been paying quite a bit of attention.”

James spoke coldly. “We humans are not such fools as you think.”

Belial’s smile widened. “You have me all wrong, child, if you think I feel that humans